


Dean Winchester Packs for a Suicide Mission

by round_robin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Light crack, M/M, Purgatory, Rough Sex, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:29:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4276917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/round_robin/pseuds/round_robin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It took five minutes. Five whole minutes for Dean to empty that jacket. He was right, it had a lot of damn pockets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean Winchester Packs for a Suicide Mission

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of me thinking about Dean's Purgatory jacket. I've seen a video from a con with Jensen talking about how he loved that jacket, he told the wardrobe department that he needed "a gun pocket here, a knife pocket here..." so I thought: with all those pockets, what else might Dean carry with him? Thus this slightly cracky fic was born.
> 
> All mistakes are mine. If you spot a typo, please include it with your comment and it'll be caught and shot. Enjoy!

Like the proverbial frog in the pot of boiling water, Benny didn’t notice his relationship with Dean heating up until it was too late. And it was all because of that damn jacket.

It started out normal enough. The first night of their uneasy partnership, Benny wanted to be a good host and prove he was an okay guy, not the monster Dean was probably imagining. To show this good will, he was trying to start a fire. Emphasis on try. With no flint or tinder, he had to do it the really, really old fashioned way: rubbing two sticks together. Most of the time it wasn’t worth the trouble and he’d gone without a campfire for so long, he was afraid he lost his touch. He had the kindling set up right, and a good stick chimney to waft the air in and the smoke up. Vampire strength helped the matter some, not much though.

Dean came back from answering the call of nature and sat down on the other side of the would be fire, ax still clutched in his hand. Benny smiled at him. “Give me a minute, brother, I’ll have us a fire in no time.”

Without a word, Dean reached into an inside pocket of his jacket and produced a matchbook with the name of some shady motel printed on it. “Here,” Dean grunted and struck a match, lowering it to the kindling.

In minutes, there was a roaring blaze in front of them. “Thanks for the assist,” Benny said. Dean shrugged.

Looking back, it seemed perfectly reasonable for Dean to have a matchbook with him. He was a hunter after all and fire was kind of their default weapon. And with all the seedy motels he stayed at, it was only natural he’d grab a matchbook off the counter and store it away.

They sat in silence, warming themselves by the fire. Benny didn’t really need the warmth, but he liked it. It reminded him of Andrea. The heat of her human skin, the softness of it. So long in this harsh, brutal place and Benny worried he might lose her memory, the good parts, at least. He would never forget her death. It’s what drove him to find this crazy human and make a deal to save both their skins.

They spent the rest of the night like that, sitting in companionable silence. After a few hours, Dean shuffled around, arranging his jacket as a pillow and went down for some sleep. The ax stayed clutched tight in his fist.

~

Arms full of firewood, Benny checked over his shoulder a couple of times before ducking into the cave they found for shelter. Caves in Purgatory were good for staying out of everyone’s way, which meant they were always occupied. But with Dean by his side, it wasn’t hard to convince the current occupant that they wanted it more.

He dropped the pile of sticks. “Here ya go, chief.” Dean grunted.

Benny was about to sit down when he saw a flash of silver on the cave wall. He followed the reflection to the knife Dean was using to clean under his nails. It wasn’t what you’d call small. “Where in the hell did you get that knife?”

“Pocket,” Dean said. They’d only been traveling together for a week and Benny learned that Dean did not use verbs.

Benny groaned. “You had a knife this whole time? After I nearly got my head chopped off gettin’ you a new ax after your other one broke?” The nearly ubiquitous black obsidian axes were Purgatory’s go-to weapon. They were sharp and strong, but one wrong hit and the damn thing shattered. The fight was amazing, though. After Dean’s blade broke into a million pieces, he started beating the other guy with the stump of the handle. It bought him enough time for Benny to chop the bastard’s head off.

A small smirk pulled at the edge of Dean’s cheek. He stopped cleaning his nails and held the knife up, almost like he was about to throw it. “I’m a hunter, Benny, I got lots of knives. This may do the trick topside, but down here, this pig-sticker ain’t worth shit. I needed that ax to survive here.” Then, he went right back to his nails.

Benny rolled his eyes and sat down to warm himself by the fire. He was starting to think this crazy human was more trouble than he was worth.

Two days later, Dean was cleaning his nails again (probably just to have something to do with his hands rather than some sort of vanity). Using a completely different knife. For a second Benny wondered exactly how many knives Dean considered “lots.”

~

“Benny! Come here!” Dean called from across the pond they stopped at.

Benny looked up, searching for danger (there were no water monsters in Purgatory... that he was aware of) and immediately dropped his eyes. Dean was standing waist deep and butt naked in the middle of the pond. How did he know Dean was naked? Well, the top swell of his ass poking out of the water answered that question pretty fast. Not to mention the fading tan line where his jeans would be on all those days the Impala was too hot and the brothers silently agreed driving with shirts off and the windows open was okay...

“Hey!” Dean yelled again, snapping Benny out of it. “You deaf? Come here!”

Benny washed the last of the blood from his beard before wading in. His pants were rolled up to his knees, suspenders hanging around his waist, but he didn’t need to take off his pants. For one thing, he didn’t mind walking around in wet clothing, and for another, he didn’t want... certain things to come to light.

“What do you want, Mr. Self Sufficient Hunter?” he grumbled.

Dean held out a tiny pair of scissors. “Can you get any spots I missed at the back?”

When they found the pond and Dean grunted he needed to “clean up.” Benny figured that involved a hack job shave with one of his knives. Never did he imagine a full haircut, complete with scissors. “Where in the hell did you get scissors?” Benny asked.

“Pocket.” Dean waved them at him. “C’mon, we don’t have all day.”

Benny took the damn scissors, snipping away at a few long patches Dean couldn’t reach. They were so tiny, he could hardly get his thumb through them. They looked weird too, like they folded or something. Why would he carry these around? “Don’t know why you insist on keepin’ yourself groomed,” he muttered, wiping a few stray hairs off Dean’s neck. “Not like anything around here cares.”

He handed the scissors back and Dean turned around, smiling. “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Maybe I just like lookin’ good for you.”

Dunking his head one last time, Dean waded back to the shore. Benny stayed exactly where he was and did not turn around. Even with the cold water, the idea of Dean’s naked, chilled skin made Benny’s cock stand up and take notice. He needed a few minutes before he joined him and they continued their trip. He swore Dean was smiling more than usual.

~

Slumped over at the base of a tree, Benny stared at his finger as it poked through the brand new hole in his jacket. Fifty years, fifty damn years down here and he managed to keep himself together. No injuries he couldn’t heal, his boots were still in good shape despite all the walking he did, and his clothes were remarkably without holes, from wear or from battle. Then comes some stupid werewolf clawing at Dean, and Benny had to be dumb enough to jump in front of him.

He knew Dean could defend himself, he’d seen the lion’s share of proof on that. But they got close these past few weeks, Benny might even call them friends, and Benny Lafitte was not the kind to leave his friends out to dry.

“Ugh,” Dean growled. “Would you quit your whining?” Before Benny knew what was happening, Dean yanked the jacket out of his hands.

“Hey!” he snapped, a little too loud for the low profile they were supposed to be keeping. “Give it back!”

“Shut up, will ya? Fuck, try to do a guy a favor.” Dean mumbled to himself for a minute while he used one hand to dig inside his jacket. He produced a small sewing kit. Laying Benny’s jacket across his lap, he took out a needle, holding it between his teeth as he picked up the spool of thread and the small compact scissors. They were the same ones he cut his hair with the other day.

“Alright,” Benny said. “That’s it. What all you got in there?”

Dean looked up at him. “In where?” he mumbled around the needle still clutched between his teeth. He was wearing his “who, me?” face. A face Benny didn’t buy for a second.

“That damn jacket. I’ve seen you with two completely different knives and those fussy little scissors.” Not to mention the matches, and once, he swore he saw Dean with a sucking candy in his mouth. “What else you got in there?”

Dean pretended not to hear him and Benny grit his teeth. “C’mon! You told me you were on a suicide mission when you got sucked down here. No one packs that well when they think they’re gonna die.”

Dean shrugged. “I’m a hunter, I’m always picking up things I can use and storing them away. Never know what you’ll need on said suicide mission.”

“So show me. Let me see all this useful stuff.”

Giving an exaggerated sigh, Dean returned the needle and thread to the sewing kit and started digging through his jacket. It took five minutes. Five whole minutes for Dean to empty that thing. He was right, it had a lot of damn pockets.

Sitting on the ground in front of Benny were no less than: five knives of varying length, ranging from comically large to surprisingly dainty; the sewing kit; a gun Benny had never seen before; a small flashlight; three empty bottles of whiskey from a hotel minibar; a pack of beef jerky; five lockpicks and a nail that might as well be a lockpick in Dean’s hands; a few candy wrappers; four books of matches, one mostly empty from using it to start fires; two stubs of pencils; a small notebook, probably from their fed con; and a sachet of lube.

“The gun’s only got two rounds left or I’d use it more often,” Dean said. “The flash light’s dead. And I got another lockpick in my sock, but you only asked about the jacket.”

Benny was curious about none of these things. He didn’t want to be rude, but the clear sachet with “super wet!” written on the outside in bright blue did draw the eye...

“You gonna ask?” There was a sparkle in Dean’s eye, Benny had seen it before, usually during a good fight. He liked to think it just meant excitement.

“Depends. You want me to ask?”

Benny wasn’t sure who moved first. Dean could’ve lunged over the pile of knives, or it might have been him. In the end it didn’t matter because Benny was now involved in the most violent kiss he’d ever been a part of. And going by vampire standards, that was impressive. For weeks, he knew what Dean’s blood smelled like, and now he knew how it tasted. Their teeth clacked together, and Dean but his lip so hard, Benny tasted his own blood too.

He’d always been a take it slow kinda guy. Dean didn’t seem to like slow. He pushed Benny onto his back and pinned his shoulders to the ground. Straddling his hips, powerful legs squeezed him breathless, if he breathed. Dean sat back, breaking the kiss. He stuck a finger in his mouth and ran it across his bloody gums, then lowered it down to paint Benny’s lips with his blood. “Doin’ anything for ya?” he asked.

“It doesn’t make me hungry, if that’s what you’re askin’.” To prove his point, Benny sucked Dean’s whole thumb into his mouth, fellating it like he would Dean’s cock if given the opportunity.

Dean moaned and let Benny go on sucking for a minute before pulling his fingers out. “My lube, I top.”

Benny wasn’t averse to that, but he had a feeling Dean liked a little push back. He arched up, rubbing his cock into Dean’s ass through the layers of fabric. “You sure about that, chief? I can make you feel mighty good.”

A low growl poured out of Dean’s chest, making Benny shiver. This wasn’t the noise made by some monster in the dark, it was completely animal. It reminded Benny of the time Andrea took him to a zoo. He’d been at sea so long, she wanted him to see the animals, see the beauty of life his maker stole from him. The tigers fascinated him, so smooth and powerful. He made the mistake of meeting one’s eyes for too long. Perhaps it recognized another predator, or maybe it was reacting to the supernatural the way animals seem to do. But Benny would never forget the sight or the sound, that low deep rumble coming from the big cat before it opened its jaws and roared. Dean Winchester was like that, strong and powerful and beautiful, but challenge him and watch out.

After that, Benny couldn’t roll over fast enough. There was a mad scramble to unhook belts and pull pants down just enough. Benny felt Dean’s fingers on his ass, squeezing the powerful muscles before dipping into his cleft. Benny purred and propped himself up on his arms. “Yeah, give it to me.”

The sachet of lube ripped open and slick fingers pressed against Benny’s hole, teasing the outside at first. “C’mon chief!” Benny shouted. “I’m a vampire! We don’t do the slow, teasing thing.”

The fingers kept right on as they were, fluttering at the outside of Benny’s hole, making him want more, more. Dean’s warm body covered his back, and a pair of lips tickled at his ear. “And I’m a human. We take our sweet time.” Dean licked the shell of Benny’s ear and it was all he could do not to melt.

He heard the squish of more lube and (finally! finally!) Dean started pushing in, two fingers at once. Benny groaned. “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about.”

He almost regretted the words, thinking Dean might take it as another invitation to tease. This fear turned out to be unfounded as, a few seconds later, Dean added a third finger, then pulled away all together. Before Benny had a chance to look back and see what the hold up was, something larger and smoother than fingers pressed against his ass. “Oh yeah. Tha’s what I want.”

“So shut up and let me give it to you,” Dean growled back.

Benny dug his fingers into the ground, anything to keep him from shoving back and taking Dean’s cock on his terms. He nearly sobbed in relief when Dean started pushing inside him, deeper and deeper until he bottomed out. All that hot, human blood and flesh inside him made Benny feel like he was going to catch fire, or explode, or something. Now if only Dean would start moving, then they’d be in business.

Hands latched onto his hips and Dean started thrusting, slow at first. “What part of ‘vampire’ aren’t you gettin’?” Benny grunted. “I’m not breakable. Just plough me already!”

“Fine!” Dean snapped his hips back then pushed forward, making Benny howl.

It kept coming, fast and hard and exactly how Benny liked it. He had to hand it to Dean for keeping up this pace. Kneeling on the ground wasn’t good for Benny’s knees, it must be miserable for a human. Benny used one arm to hold himself up and wrapped the other hand around his cock. Part of him wanted to savor the first sex he’d hand in decades, but they weren’t exactly being quiet and three was a crowd. Or four, or however many monsters decided to jump them. Dean could fight off anything, the pants around his ankles might make it a bit harder. He stroked faster, chasing an orgasm that really wasn’t trying to evade him.

It only took a few strokes. “Fuck!” Benny huffed into the ground, his hips stuttering a little. Heat pooled at the base of his spine suddenly exploded. Come fountained from the tip of his cock, spurting across the dirt and leaves of the forest floor, glistening among the gloom. All his muscles squeezed and, in the back of his mind, he heard Dean groan, fingers tightening their grip on his hips.

Dean slumped onto Benny’s back, and Benny managed to lie them down away from the pool of come. Dean’s soft cock slipped from him and they both groaned, Dean taking a minute to catch his breath.

Benny was all set to fall asleep right there when Dean’s voice pulled him awake. “So,” he said. “You want me to fix your jacket or not?”

The End

**Author's Note:**

> In my other vampire Benny fics, I have it that vampires come dry because, well, they're dead. Nothing left to shoot. In this fic, I... kind of forgot.


End file.
